Present Hell
by BJ2
Summary: SLASH! Logan/Remy Remy finally goes home but his problems only increase.
1. Chapter 1

**Marvel owns anyone and everything you recognize. I mean no disrespect or harm and I'm making no money with this fic.**

A/N: Follows immediately after Past Revisited and toned down for this site. Please visit Fan Fiction Writers to read the story as it was originally written.

*****

Logan blinked slowly to make sure he wasn't imagining things; no, those half open eyes were still looking blindly back at him. He rushed to the bed and took the thin bruised face between his shaking hands. "I knew you'd come back to me," he whispered before he claimed the dry, cracked lips once again. He didn't notice the terror in the eyes, he didn't recognize the slight movement of the battered body as fighting back; all he knew was that Remy was awake.

Logan slowly pulled back and looked at him a moment before turning for the door and calling "Hank! Doc, come in here! He's…He's awake!"

He found himself unceremoniously shoved out the door as a small army of nurses and the two doctors worked around his lover. He could do nothing but wait so he took out his cell phone and nervously punched in the mansion number.

"Xavier Institute, Ororo Monroe speaking; how may I help you?"

All of a sudden Logan found his mouth very dry; Ro was the closest thing to family Remy had and he was suddenly at a loss for words.

"Hello?"

"He woke up Ro; he woke up not more than a minute ago." He forced the words out of his dry throat.

"Logan? …" It seemed that the regal Storm was at a loss as well; he heard her take in a sharp breath and imagined the hopeful look in her amazing cat eyes. "Thank the Goddess! Is he all right... is he... Logan?"

Logan looked down the long hall toward the room that held his lover, "They shoved me out when they started checking him," was the best answer he could come up with at the moment.

Storm let out an aggravated moan, "Are you still bringing him home? Logan, please any information you have..."

Logan felt bad for the wind rider; Remy was her brother in all but blood. The waiting and worry were as bad for her as it had been for him. "I think everything's gonna be okay now Ro. I gotta go, Hank's comin'."

He could tell she didn't want to hang up, "Alright, call me with any news." she said reluctantly before she replaced the phone.

He wrung his hands as he watched Hank walk towards him, his nervous energy needed a release and popping his claws was not an option in this small unsuspecting town. "Well?" He didn't want to waste words and he didn't want one of Hank's flowery speeches. All he wanted was for someone to finally tell him it was all going to be all right again.

Hank steered him toward a seat and sat him down. He opened his mouth to speak and nothing came out. He tried again and still could not force the words to come.

"Damn it Hank, what?" Logan growled.

"Logan," seemed a safe place to start he thought, but the blue eyes that bore into him would not let him stop there, "He's no more awake than when his eyes were closed. I'm sorry. It does mean he's moving toward waking but he's no where near truly conscious yet." He felt so bad for his friend. He knew this could take days, weeks, possibly months.

Logan seemed to crumble inside, his shoulders fell and he stared at the bright tile floor. "So he's still in the coma?"

Hank squeezed his shoulder, "Yes, I'm afraid so." The communicator in his pocket started to vibrate. That would be Scott. "Scott has landed with the Falcon. I am going to make sure Remy is comfortable and ready to go home." He stood and moved away from Logan, turning at the door to watch him a moment before continuing down the hall.

The flight home was somber; Hank sat beside Remy watching monitors and readouts. Logan found himself staring at those eerie eyes that occasionally would open and stare back. There was no life in them, no hint of the enigmatic young man they belonged to and they were, to his amazement, frightening like this.

Once Remy was situated in the med lab Logan relaxed a little bit. They were home, under the same roof and although he hated the lab he felt sure that now Remy would have to be okay.

Over the next forty- eight hours Remy slowly started to become more aware of his surroundings. He started to respond to sounds, even turning his head toward voices, but there was still no real recognition in his beautiful eyes. Logan stayed with him, talking and touching. When he grew tired Storm would sit and do the same. Everyone in the mansion had popped in at least once trying to draw the Cajun back to life.

*****

"He's doing much better, aren't you Remy?" Hank said on the morning of the second full week of his return. He was completely weaned from everything but the IV that fed him antibiotics and was sitting up in a chair when Logan entered.

Hank stepped back and Logan knelt in front of the chair and kissed his young lover. "Hey Darlin, I bet it feels good to get out of that bed, huh?" He smiled at Remy a second then turned to Hank, "What's up?"

Hank watched, fascinated, by the way Remy studied Logan's face.

"It's okay that you're confused Rem, you'll recognize this ugly mug when your ready." Logan said softly.

The large blue doctor sat a bowl on the table beside them, "I was going to help Remy with his breakfast but if you would like the job I'm sure I could find something else to do."

He couldn't help smiling when Remy reached out toward Logan. The young man had come a long way in the past two weeks. Hank was a little concerned that he didn't respond to his own name but patients coming out of comas were frequently confused so he let it slide.

Logan caught the hand and kissed the palm. When Remy weakly pulled away Logan released him and lifted the spoon from the bowl, "What the hell are ya feedin' him Blue, this looks nasty." He lifted the spoon to Remy who turned away.

"I assure you it won't kill him," Hank said, slightly miffed, as he walked back to the doorway.

"I don't blame ya, darlin', but ya have to eat," Logan tried again and this time Remy swallowed. His throat was raw from the tubes that were there so long and from coughing up the remaining fluid in his lungs. He grimaced and weakly pushed away the next spoonful. "Hank, any ideas," Logan asked. This was like trying to feed an infant. He sat down the spoon and brushed his fingers through Remy's soft hair.

The motion caused something to stir in Remy's mind but when he tried to grasp it the feeling, as always, danced away and was gone. He weakly rubbed at his temple and Logan could see on his face that he was trying to remember something.

Hank walked into the room and waited for Remy to look at him, "Remy, I will be forced to replace the feeding tube if you continue to refuse." He tried to sound stern without frightening the boy and it seemed to work, Remy sighed and reluctantly opened his mouth for the next bite.

Logan gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "That's my boy." Hank watched to make sure he would continue to cooperate. "Any idea when he'll start talking again?" Logan asked as he fed the young man.

Hank sighed, "No, I guess we'll just have to wait until he feels ready. I'm sure his throat hurts it looks raw. Maybe if we feed him ice chips and frozen juice it will relieve the pain and our young friend will join in on the conversations."

Remy finished half of the bowl of oatmeal then sighed, and turned away. Logan put the spoon down and pushed back his lover's long hair again, "Alright Rem, Hank, can we stop?"

Hank checked the bowl, "Yes, why don't you help him back to bed? I'm sure he's tired and I need to do a few things before he can go back to sleep."

Logan helped Remy stand and worked his way under his arm so he could take Remy's weight. The stitches had been removed, the internal wounds were nearly healed but the wounds from the gunshots still looked angry and sore.

Hank returned and looked at Logan with a sad expression, "Help him lie down," he said quietly. He then turned to Remy, "I'm sorry my friend, I know this is uncomfortable, but I'll only be a few minutes and then you can sleep."

Tears welled up in his eyes. He looked at Logan pleadingly and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, darlin; he has to do it so you can get better." He hated doing this to the kid but he did as Hank asked and then stepped away from the bed.

Hank was as gentle as he could be, but the young Cajun always let out a weak scream when Hank checked his injuries. It was the only sound the young man made and it broke Hank's kind heart to hurt him like that. Once he was done he helped Remy roll back, "All done for now." He couldn't ignore the tears on the young man's cheeks. He stepped away from the bed to where Logan waited to give the younger man some room, "I need to insert a catheter in his chest. The infection in his femur is serious and could take as long as two months to heal completely so it is imperative that he never misses a dose of the medication. I will remove the IV line once I get the catheter in place. We can give him the antibiotics he still needs through it and he will be able to leave the Med Lab and continue to recuperate in your room. Would you like that Remy?"

He nodded slowly.

"Logan, I'm worried about his reaction to being touched. I am going to leave now maybe you could touch him, help him understand that touch can be good again?"

Logan blinked, "Okay." He waited until Hank was gone and rested his hand on Remy's uninjured left leg, "I won't hurt you, Rem. I just want to show you that you don't have to be afraid, okay?"

He waited until he was sure Remy understood what he was saying, and gave his nervous nod of consent. Keeping his eyes trained on Remy's face he slowly placed his hand on Remy's warm skin, "I love ya Darlin, I'm not sure how much you remember but it's gonna be okay; just close your eyes and relax for me."

Remy shook his head.

"Do you not want me to touch you?"

Remy shook his head again. He looked like there was more he wanted to say, but he couldn't find the words yet.

Logan tried to think from his lover's point of view and tried again, "You don't mind my touch if you can watch, is that it? You need some control over the situation, don't ya?"

Remy visibly swallowed then gave Logan a shaky nod. "That's okay; thanks for helpin' me understand. I would never want to cause you any pain or fear. Are ya ready, Rem, can I touch you?"

Remy stared at him for a long moment before he finally nodded.

Logan gently reached out and rubbed his lover's face and down his long neck. It felt so good being able to touch Remy's soft warm skin again, he moaned.

Remy shivered as he began to relax into the soft touch. Logan continued to gently touch his lover; caressing him and running his fingers gently over some of the scars. They felt strange on Remy's smooth, soft skin, out of place, but they were nothing that would deter Logan. There was just caring and love in his touch and he smiled as Remy sighed and began to enjoy the treatment.

Logan talked quietly the whole time and soon Remy was sound asleep. It felt so good to be able to make the young man feel good again. He hoped when Remy was strong enough that he could remind him of all the good feelings he used to show him. He slowly stopped his motions and carefully covered him back up; kissing him gently he looked back at Hank who'd just returned and was watching from the door way, "He's gonna be okay, isn't he?"

Hank walked up to the bed and pulled the blanket up a little higher, "I hope so," he said quietly as he watched the young man sleep. "He's been through a horrific experience but I think your love and devotion will see him through it. What about you? How are you handling all this? He's your lover, and dare I say, soul mate. Are you doing okay?"

Logan played with a soft curl of auburn hair. "I'll be okay when he looks me in the eye and says I'm fine. Stop worryin'."

Hank smiled and patted his shoulder. "That day will come. It may take a while, but it will come."

*****

Stephen felt more than saw the short man sitting by his bed. He sensed feral power and strength but also a nearly overwhelming amount of protectiveness and love. He liked this man, he felt safe with him. The blue man was nice too, he hurt him but he was always regretful and sorry afterwards. Stephen wondered about these new feelings and who was Remy? The name meant something to him, he was sure, but he had no idea why.

"Remy? You can stop pretending to be asleep, I know you're awake." The wolf man spoke quietly and held his hand. "What happened to you? Why didn't you come home? I need to know, darlin'. I know your throat hurts but couldn't you say something? You don't have to be afraid, what happened doesn't change anything. I could stop breathin' easier than stop lovin' ya. Please try."

Remy looked up through long bangs and swallowed hard. In the softest of whispers he said, "My name…Stephen."

Logan's eyes grew as he tried to understand what he'd just heard. "Hank, get in here," he said quietly as he stared at his lover.

Hank entered looking puzzled, "Logan you sound-"

Before Hank could finish his sentence he heard a softly whispered, "Who's Remy… Who 're you?" Remy pinched his eyes shut and reached up to rub his raw throat.

Hanks eyes grew too as he looked from Remy to Logan, "Remy?"

He opened his eyes and shook his head vigorously, "Oscar said…Stephen." He pointed to himself.

Hank's heart broke for the young man; he looked so lost all of a sudden. He reached out and brushed back the long bangs, "Sleep young man, we can talk later when you're feeling better, okay?"

Stephen nodded and closed his eyes. His head hurt. Dozens of sights and sounds were swirling through his mind. He felt if he could just make them stop everything would be clear.

Hank nodded toward the door, "Logan."

They moved to Hank's office; as soon as the door was closed Logan turned and ranted, "He doesn't remember us? Me? Who's Oscar? Do ya think he's the bastard who…"

Hank stopped his angry pacing with a strong hand to his shoulder, "Calm down Logan, this won't solve anything."

Logan looked him in the eye, "He said Oscar said Stephen. He has to be the one that… the one who made him…" He couldn't say the words... The one that made Remy sell himself; the one who turned Remy into a prostitute again.

"Let's allow him time to get stronger before we push this, he's just coming out of a coma; he's confused right now. It's hard for him to think straight."

Logan sighed, "Alright Hank, but I don't like this. I want some answers and I want them soon."

*****

Stephen was still until they left then opened his eyes and rolled to his back. He rolled his shoulder to loosen the tight muscles; it was much better now. His leg still hurt but nothing like before. The blue man gave him crutches to use to get up; Oscar didn't even give him aspirin. Where was Oscar? Did he know these people? Were they clients too? The wolf man, Logan was his name? He kissed me and touched me... touched the ugly scars. He ran his fingers through my…

A memory fought its way to the front of his mind. "I know him," he whispered out loud. "Logan…" He rolled off the bed and grabbed the crutches. Suddenly seeing the man again seemed like the most important thing in the world.

The IV was in the way so he ripped it out without a thought; he had to find Logan.

Storm walked in as he took his first, very shaky step, "Goddess!" she caught him as he lost his balance and fell, "Remy, what on earth are you doing?" She swept him off his feet on a cushion of warm air and gently placed him back in the bed. "Hank!" she called as she ran to the bathroom and returned with a cloth to press to his bleeding hand.

"What's going on?" Hank asked as he entered, but seeing the IV dripping on the floor and the blood on the cloth Ro was trying to wrap around Remy's hand he quickly jumped into action. "Let me see," he said as he moved to Storm. "I have to get the IV back in it is vital that he gets this medication, Remy-" Getting no response from the confused young man he tried, "Stephen?"

The boy looked wide-eyed at him, at everyone crowded around him; surrounding him.

"Why does my brother answer to Stephen?" Storm asked.

"That's it! I'm hunting the raping bastard down and killin' him!" Logan raged.

The voices assaulted him as he lie shivering with fear between these strange people. He had remembered something; something important but now it was gone. He was somehow lifted without being touched; he was falling then flying...

The wolf man was growling and angry; Stephen had a terrifying vision of Carl backhanding him and a foul smell as he was pulled half off a bed and a dirty cloth was rammed down his throat to keep him quiet then he was beaten and forced to... He remembered bites and punches and a few scattered words, "…refuse me… tear you apart boy toy…you're nothing but a pretty whore…" raining down on him.

The voices above him were getting louder, he closed his eyes; he didn't want to see these people anymore.

Shards of memories sliced through his head all demanding to be acknowledged at the same time. He tried to hold his head, the migraine was back, his head throbbed, but the blue man, the *beast* kept pulling his hand back.

Lightning flashed, thunder crashed, a *storm* was approaching.

The little man growled and talked and then claws appeared; he was as feral as a *wolverine.*

Stephen sobbed, silently forgotten in the madness as the three people in the room talked and growled and screamed around his bed.

He suddenly remembered gunshots and his head, shoulder and leg burned with pain... *shot*... he was *shot* on his way *here!* He was on his way *home!*

Carl's face appeared again; biting, punching, and burning pain as he tore his way inside... a knife started slashing him wildly …

He remembered more of the demeaning and brutal conversation and gasped, the bastard never stopped cutting and punching and shouting...

Then suddenly he remembered a gentle touch…a passionate kiss… "Logan..." he whispered and the tears continued to fall.

*****

Jean stumbled half blind toward the shattering mind; flashes of a savage beating then passionate love, she saw a knife flash then a loving touch. There was running blood then warm scented oil; insane brown eyes then cherished blue... Stephen was terrified, screaming in his head, "I'm dying! I'm dying!" then Remy was whispering as the flame of passion hit, "Cher, hold me I'm flying."

"Stop it!" She shrieked as she stumbled to the bed; her hands pressed to her head. She reached down blindly and pulled the silently sobbing boy to her, holding his head to her heart, "Shhh…shhh…its okay, Remy...its okay." She ran her hand comfortingly over his hair, soothed him like a frightened child. The noise around him stopped as everyone's attention finally turned to the cause of the heated discussion. He shook and sobbed hoarsely against her chest. "Get out!" were the only words she spared them as she mentally shoved them out the door and sealed it. Tears ran down her cheeks into his soft hair.

He was trapped between who he was and whom he'd been turned into.

In his mind Stephen the whore was being savagely beaten and attacked but Remy the X-man was being cherished and loved and he couldn't figure out which was right. He couldn't figure out how he could be Stephen *and* Remy.

She gently gave him the suggestion of exhaustion and the hard sobs slowed and eventually stopped. She held him a while rocking him gently, suddenly seeing how truly young he really was. She calmed his thoughts and then she did the one thing the Professor told her never to do. She captured Stephen and all his memories and sealed them in a box in the back of Remy's mind. It would dissolve slowly over the years but by the time it did the memories would be like old photographs, faded and dull. The feelings and sound track that accompanied them would be muted and too quiet to hurt anymore.

She continued to hold the sleeping boy and rock him gently in her arms then she kissed his hair and whispered in his mind, "My gift to you…forget."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Marvel owns everyone and everything you recognize.**

A/N: Again, changed for this site.

*****

Hank, Logan and Ororo stood stunned as they watched the door close from the outside. "Damn it," Logan cringed, "Remy…" He tried the door but it wouldn't budge. "How could we *do* that to him." He sat down and dropped his face to his hands.

Hank sat beside him, "I'm a physician, I know the importance of remaining positive and calm in the presence of a patient, especially a confused, hurting patient."

"He is my brother, I love him. How could I hurt him so?" Storm whispered as she stared at the closed door. "Henry, will he be alright?"

He just patted the seat to his left and they waited there silently for an hour before the door finally opened again. Logan shot out of his seat, "Jeannie?"

She walked over to him and forced him back into the chair. Once he was seated she sat herself and took his hand. "He will be asleep for a while." She looked at Hank with guilty eyes. "I couldn't stand it," she whispered, "so I…I locked him away. The fear, the pain… he was being torn apart!" She had to make them understand. "I locked Stephen and all his memories away. Charles and Scott will be so upset with me." Jean looked at her friends, begging for forgiveness with tear filled eyes, "Hank his mind was shattering, he was going insane; old memories, new memories all fighting and bouncing around in his head. I had to stop it; I've never felt his mind so clearly before. I never realized what it was like for him, the pain he has trapped in his head, it echoes around in there... it's so loud."

Logan looked deeply into her eyes, "You know what happened to him, don't you; you know everything?"

She nodded and a tear made a path down her cheek. "Yes, I saw it all." A shiver ran down her spine as she remembered what she saw in his tormented mind. "It started when he stopped for a hitchhiker..." Over the next hour she gave them the highlights of the torture Remy endured in those three lost weeks.

"Goddess..." Storm rose and walked to Jean, "Thank you for helping him," she said as she hugged her friend.

Hank and Logan rose with Jean. "I have to go explain what I did to Scott and Charles. I hope they understand," she whispered.

After she left Logan turned to Hank "I gotta make sure he's okay." He led the doctor back to the room where Remy slept. Hank checked the IV to make sure he hadn't hurt himself, "He seems fine Logan. You can sit with him until he wakes."

It was dinnertime before Logan heard a soft moan signaling that Remy was waking. He put down the newspaper he was reading and moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

Remy's eyes fluttered a few times before he cracked them open. It took him a minute to focus on the body beside him, "Logan?" he whispered with a low raspy voice. He felt like shit, hurt all over. "What happened?" he tried to move but decided against it when his head started pounding.

Logan shivered as a wave of relief washed through him, "Finally... welcome home Darlin'." He bent and kissed Remy's brow, "Do you remember stopping for a hitchhiker?"

Remy's head was pounding but after a moment... "He took my bike," he whispered in his rough voice.

Logan chuckled and brushed through soft red hair, stopping to rub his temples to erase the lines of pain by his beautiful, intoxicating eyes. "You got shot three times and all you remember is your bike?"

Remy sighed softly and sunk down deeper into the pillow behind his head, "I love that bike." He opened his eyes and looked up at Logan, "My throat really hurts."

Logan stopped the massage and lifted a spoonful of ice chips carefully to his lover's lips. "That helps, thanks," he whispered.

Logan replaced the spoon and placed a finger across his lips. "Don't talk, okay?" He looked at his lover a moment before he caressed his cheek, "I love ya Rem."

The beautiful smile that answered made his heart jump.

He lifted another spoonful of ice the young Cajun's lips then rested his forehead against Remy's… "I thought I lost ya," he whispered then he kissed the young man, "Don't you ever scare me like that again, you hear?"

Remy lifted his arms; he was surprised by how weak he was. He hugged Logan and nodded against his shoulder. He released the weak hold he had on his lover and sighed, "So tell me what happened."

Logan sat back, "Told ya, the guy shot ya three times. They called us three days later from a hospital in Pa. and said they had ya and that you were all but dead; scared *me* nearly to death. Turned out to be the guy who stole your bike, he had your ID. Three weeks later you turned up. Nobody knows for sure where you were or what happened to ya." He looked away a moment then looked back into Remy's eyes, "It's kinda obvious though," he said quietly.

Remy took a deep breath and closed his eyes; there was little pain but he just knew in his heart if he were to look under the blanket that covered him he'd see his worst nightmares had come true again. He blinked a few times to fight back the tears, "My head's killin' me Cher, I'm gonna sleep a while okay?"

Logan bent and kissed him again, "Sure kid, I'll be here when you wake up."

Remy just knew there was some vital bit of information in the farthest reaches of his mind but every time he tried to remember it was just beyond his grasp. His head pounded harder with each try so he gave up trying to reach it, for now.

During the next week, Hank placed a catheter just below Remy's collarbone so he could keep administering the antibiotics he needed for the infection in his leg and he was released into Logan's care. Remy was weak and sore, he'd found the courage to look at himself in the mirror and though he had no memory of it, he knew what had happened.

He was worried Logan would hate him now, the scars were hideous but Logan was a rock. When he wasn't on a mission he was Remy's constant companion. Remy took advantage of this by using his lover as a crutch, leaning against his solid form while his leg healed.

Logan put the letter he received about the Commitment Ceremony away; he would ask the young Cajun when he was stronger, and fully healed. Remy had nightmares often and Logan was terrified he would remember that way what had actually happened to him but he could never remember details of the dreams that felt very real.

"Logan, Cher?" Remy called from the bathroom connected to their room.

"Yeah kid, what do ya need?" He entered the bathroom and froze. Remy was standing there looking more gorgeous than he could ever remember. "Remy, what are ya doin'?"

Remy looked at him through his long bangs, "I miss you; I want you to touch me."

Logan couldn't draw his eyes away from the incredibly edible body in front of him. "Darlin, you're going to be the death of me," he whispered. He licked his lips, God he wanted to touch and taste the kid so bad... He was a work of art.

"Please Logan?"

Logan took a step closer to the young Cajun, "God Rem, I want to so bad but we should wait."

Remy's eyes dropped to the floor and his shoulders fell as he wrapped a towel around his waist, "I know what probably happened," he said quietly, " You do too." He stepped too fast on his injured leg and cursed under his breath as he hopped to the bed. "You don' want me no more, I disgust you." His voice shook and he refused to look at Logan when he sat on the bed beside him.

"Rem, that's not true, I love you so much I can taste it." He gently rubbed Remy's thigh.

Remy took his hand, "it don' hurt anymore," he whispered.

Logan stared at him, God, it had been so long. Three weeks Remy was missing, three weeks since he'd returned. He looked into his favorite eyes, eyes that no longer looked frightening, eyes that owned him heart and soul and swallowed hard before whispering, "Lay down." He reached into the nightstand and removed a small bottle of oil. When he poured some on his hand it became instantly warm; Remy had used it on him the night before he left on his fateful mission. "You lay still, close those beautiful eyes and let me show you how much I love you."

Remy's eyes slowly closed and Logan kissed a trail down his long graceful neck. He wanted to do more but settled on a slow massage instead.

Remy moaned deep in his throat. He felt something in the back of his mind, it held the secrets of what happened to him but he pushed the thought away and concentrated on here and now. Logan was touching him and, God, it felt so good.

Logan was slowly working his way down the masterpiece of flesh. Every time he felt the imperfection of a scar or a bruise he stayed at that spot until he was sure his scent or touch replaced the other. Remy was *his* and *no one* would ever touch him again. No lips, no hands, but *his!*

He finally arrived at the towel that covered his lover and stopped. He gently caressed his way down the heavily bandaged thigh then worked his way up the other one. The scars from the savage beating, and stitches that were hurriedly placed to save his life felt foreign and out of place on the otherwise perfect body but Logan kissed each damaged spot letting his lover know he was still perfect to him.

Remy was a puddle on the bed; he felt so cherished, so loved. A tear escaped his eye as he thanked whatever was out there for giving him this. Logan was the one truly shining thing in his life and he felt humbled by the intensity of his love. He still loves me, he still loves me... he repeated over and over again in his mind.

As much as Remy wanted this to last forever his body refused to co- operate. He was still weak from his recent ordeal and he was exhausted but he wanted Logan to know what his love meant to him. "Come closer." He ran his hands weakly up and down Logan's arm. He looked apologetically up at the man he loved with all his heart, "I don' think I got the strength to thank y' properly for that beautiful gift, Cher."

Logan bent and kissed him softly, "I know yer tired, darlin' and I don't mind at all."

He lay down and kissed Remy tenderly as he pulled him close, "You okay?"

Remy closed his eyes and nuzzled his shoulder, "Oui," was the breathy reply.

"I didn't hurt ya'?" Logan asked to make sure.

Remy shook his head tiredly, "No, I feel reborn." He sighed again and quickly fell asleep.

Logan kissed his hair then bent to pull the comforter up over the two of them. He held his lover tight and fell asleep too.

*****

Two more months passed and things returned to normal, or as normal as things got for the X-Men. Remy was finally finished with the antibiotics and his leg, though still a little sore, was fine. He continued to suffer from headaches; they hit him without warning and left him nearly incapacitated.

Hank did every test he could think of but came up with no reason for them. After much badgering and pleading on Remy's part Hank cleared him for Level One missions. There was no chance for contact with enemies, only fact finding. He knew the young man was going crazy watching everyone else go out on missions and until he solved the mystery of the headaches it seemed a safe solution.

Scott walked into the kitchen where Storm, Jean, Remy and Logan were in the middle of a heated debate over an article in the newspaper. The Cajun was up on the counter, his favorite seat, and every chance he got he threw tiny pieces of his bagel into Logan's hair.

Everyone noticed but Logan and the older man was tired of the game, "what the hell are you doin', Cajun?" as he turned his head to look at the boy a shower of crumbs rained down around him.

Remy broke into a fit of laughter.

Logan stood and shook his head then he turned to scowl at the boy laughing hysterically behind him. He tried to look mad, really he did, but Remy was so damn …cute like this. He grabbed the boy and threw him over his shoulder, which only made him laugh harder.

Jean and Ororo joined in at this point and Scott couldn't remember the last time he heard so much laughter in the mansion, it felt wonderful. "Logan before you cart him off I need him." He tried not to get caught up in the moment.

Logan spun around so Remy was facing Scott, "Oui?" Remy asked when he had the giggles under control.

He wore the innocent look of a four year old and Scott had to shake his head to remember that this was a very cunning and dangerous 23 year old man, "I need you to go to Boston. There's a contact there with a disc I need."

Remy smiled and Logan sat him gently down on his feet, "When do we leave?"

Scott shook his head, "Not you just Gambit. It's a simple pick up and Hank wants him to start slow."

Logan stepped forward, "No. He's not going alone."

Remy grabbed his hand, "Logan, please stop worryin', I'm fine. I need to get out o' here. Please? I'll be back de same day, I'll fly commercial. Won' do anything else, promise. I'll pick up the disc and hop a plane home."

Logan stared into his eyes, he knew this was a lost battle, "You come straight home, ya hear me?"

Remy gave him a quick kiss and a wink, "I will." He turned to Scott, "When do I leave?"

Scott handed him a file, "In an hour. I've already made all the arrangements."

Remy smiled again, "I better go get ready," he said as he bounded from the room.

*****

Remy exited the plane and looked around for his contact. When he didn't see the man he was looking for right away he pulled out his cell phone; after hitting the mansion's number he chuckled, "You sittin' on de phone, Logan? It didn' even finish ringin' once."

Logan relaxed for the first time since Remy left four hours earlier, "Maybe. You meet the contact?"

Remy looked around again, "Not yet, I don' see him. I'm gonna hang here a while, if he don' show I'll catch the next flight home. See ya for dinner; love y' Cher."

Logan smiled, "Love ya too kid. See ya later."

Remy closed the phone and wandered over to the bar. He could look for his contact from here without being noticed. After he ordered he sat at a small table and looked around again. He felt eyes watching him and turned expecting to see the contact; instead he found himself staring at a large somehow disturbing man. His dark eyes bore into Remy and his smile made him shiver. Remy looked away and moved from his table to a group of chairs across the terminal, "That was weird," he mumbled to himself.

As he moved away he could feel the man's eyes following him. He sat again and looked to where the stranger was but he was gone. Remy closed his eyes and let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

When he opened them again the man was directly in front of him, "So, Stephen long time, huh? You look a lot better than the last time I saw you."

Remy studied the man, "Excuse me? You have me mistaken for someone else."

The man laughed, it was a cruel, evil sound, "No one could ever forget you kid. Sorry about the knife, I got caught up in the moment."

Remy stood and took a step back away from the man. "Please, I'm waiting for someone; if you would excuse me?"

He started to walk away but the man called after him, "Maybe later? I'll pay anything!"

Remy felt his blood run cold. He rubbed his temple when he felt the beginnings of a headache. Finally he noticed his contact and he picked up the disc he was sent to retrieve. When he was finished with his business he made his way back to his terminal; he couldn't wait to leave this place, and the strange man. What the hell was going on? Remy had to sit when the large airport suddenly started to spin around him. He broke out in a cold sweat and had to swallow hard to keep from being sick. "Not now," he whispered to himself.

These headaches scared him.

They came from nowhere and they stopped him cold. Henri had tested him for hours and could find nothing wrong but Remy knew it wasn't medical; there was something else... it was right there in the back of his mind. He leaned forward and closed his eyes hoping the dizziness would pass all he had to do was get to the plane and he would be safe. Safe, where did that come from?

He heard the call for final boarding of his plane and sat back only to find himself blocked by the man from before. "Come on Stephen, Oscar got busted and won't be around for three months. I need ya kid, how 'bout it?"

Remy couldn't fight the nausea he felt any longer and bolted for the nearest men's room. When his stomach finally settled he went to the sink to splash his face with water; as he looked into the mirror he was staring into the dark, crazy eyes of the stranger again.

The man moved while Remy was still in shock and shoved him into a stall. He covered Remy's mouth and nose until he stopped fighting and they stared at each other a moment, Remy was confused, his head pounded and the room spun crazily around him.

The larger man leaned in close, breath smelling foul, eyes insane with evil intent. When he started reaching for his belt Remy came out of his shock and screamed under his large dirty hand. Somewhere inside he found the strength to shove the man back and stand; he aimed a kick between his legs and ran out of the restroom. His plane was already taxiing to the runway and he let out a desperate sob, he had to get away. He moved behind a bank of lockers and watched as the man stumbled out of the restroom and looked around before he headed toward the nearest exit.

Remy sat down hard in the chair behind him; he was shaking head to toe and the headache was now a full-blown migraine. He dropped his head to his hands and tried to control his breathing.

A hand touched his shoulder and he shot out of the chair.

"Are you all right young man?"

It was an older woman maybe in her fifties, she had true concern in her eyes and Remy relaxed a little, "Oui, merci for askin'."

She patted his shoulder as he sat again, "If you're sure?"

Remy nodded and she walked away. He looked around once more but his attacker was gone. It was over.

The migraine made his vision double and it took him a while to find his phone and hit the mansion number again, "Logan?"

Logan instantly knew something was wrong, "What's wrong darlin', what happened?"

Remy's voice shook as the events of the last half hour set in, "I missed my plane...m' head hurts again an' I feel sick."

"I'm comin' t' get ya," Logan said, already making a mental note to contact Hank and Scott.

Remy knew he was serious about coming, "No, I'm jus' gonna get a room and sleep it off...I feel like shit."

"Rem..."

Logan was worried, it was clear in his voice. Hearing his lover's voice soothed the young Cajun and he felt stupid for getting so upset, "I really think I just need to sleep a while. I'm fine, really, I'm sorry I worried ya Cher."

Logan half growled through the phone, "No you aren't, and as soon as you get home you're goin' back down to Hank, no arguments."

Remy smiled a little, it felt so good to be protected like this, "Okay, I will." Hearing Logan's voice was enough to drive the last of his fear away, "I love y', Logan."

Logan sighed and leaned his forehead against the cool kitchen wall, "I Love you too, kiddo. Don't forget to lock the door and you call me right before you get on the plane home, I'll meet you."

"Thanks," Remy closed the phone and tried to blink away the spots in front of his eyes. He passed out before he even realized it was going to happen.

*****

Hank found Logan pacing in the kitchen an hour later, "Logan, are you all right?"

Logan looked at his friend and sighed, "Remy missed his plane because of another one of those damn headaches. He sounded like shit, Blue, you gotta find out what they are; something's really wrong with him."

Hank watched Logan pace, "Another one?"

"Yeah, he stayed there to sleep it off, sounded like a bad one."

"I don't like this, Logan. I can't find anything wrong." He stepped forward and stopped Logan's pacing with a hand on his shoulder, "I want to see him the moment he arrives home." Then he turned and walked back to his lab, worried too. Since Remy's last mission he'd been having recurring and increasingly worse headaches with no apparent cause. He was anxious to see the young man and *this* time he'd stay until the reason was found.

*****

Remy woke up lying across the backseat of a car. His mouth, wrists and ankles were duct taped.

The man driving glanced back at him when he realized that Remy was awake, "Sorry Stephen, but I can't let you get away with shit like that. That wasn't nice. I figure ol' Oscar made a fortune with you so you're gonna make up for back at the airport by doing the same for me."

Remy listened to the mad man in the front seat ranting through waves of pain. The headache made him sound muffled and strange and his vision was blurred but he knew he had to take control of this situation and do it fast. Why was this guy after him? Who the hell was this Stephen person? The pain in his head reached all the way down his neck now and was moving to his spine. This was the worst one yet. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the tape around his wrists. It started to glow softly, he'd have burns, he wasn't immune to his own power, but at least his hands would be free. The tape exploded and the next minute seemed to pass in slow motion. Remy reached into the front seat and wrapped an arm around the driver's throat, "Now, my friend, you're gonna pull this car over an' we gonna have a little chat, Oui?"

The man swallowed hard and pulled over on the shoulder of the deserted road. "Okay Stevie boy, don't do anything stupid."

Remy used a move his father taught him and his attacker was out cold in seconds. "Merci Poppa." Remy sat back in his seat and closed his eyes a moment, his head felt like it was about to explode. There were ugly burns on his wrists from the tape and he felt like he was either gonna pass out or throw up any second. He took a deep breath to calm his stomach and stop the dark spots in front of his eyes then removed the tape from his ankles and climbed over the seat. "Okay, let's see who we have here." He went through pockets until he found a wallet, "Carl Harris, well Carl Harris, why you after Remy, huh?" There was a roll of tape on the floor, "Probably threw it there after grabbin' me." He taped the man's hands and feet.

He was fighting to stay conscious at this point and said a silent prayer of thanks when he found a phone under the seat.

"Xavier Institute, Henry McCoy speaking; how may I help you?"

"Henri?" Remy closed his eyes and felt himself slipping into unconsciousness but held on.

"Remy, is that you?"

Remy opened his eyes and his surrounding started to swim and spin. "Need some help..." Remy slurred.

"Remy! Remy, where are you? What's going on?"

He swallowed hard and tried to make sense as he answered, "I think I'm still in Boston… gonna pass out… trace de…"

"Remy!" Hank hurried to the Comm. room and put a trace on the call then he hit the intercom, "X-Men to the War Room," was all that would be needed to gather them and go after Remy.

*****

In the War Room Scott and Storm looked at each other, "What's going on?" Scott asked as the rest of the team arrived.

"I have no idea," Storm answered.

Hank came in last, "I've just received a rather disturbing call from Remy," he said as he entered.

Logan was on his feet at once, "Blue?"

"I've traced the call but I fear for his safety."

"Then let's go!" Logan said as he started for the Hangar.

"Wait Wolverine, we'll take the Falcon. Hank stays here with Storm and Bobby. Jean, you're with Wolverine and me," he was already headed for the door.

"I've already sent the location to the on board computer, Scott." Hank called as he left for his lab, he could at least make sure he was ready to treat the migraine when Remy returned. He silently prayed for that to be the only thing he would need to treat.

*****

It only took forty-five minutes to reach the old car by the side of the mostly deserted road.

"That's it, that old car is where the signal originates." Scott sat the Falcon down in a field down the road. "Get to him while I prep for take-off." Scott told his wife and Logan. If Remy were there they'd be out of here in no time.

As they exited the plane Jean grabbed Logan's hand, "I sense him. His mind is wide open." She looked her friend in the eyes; "I can usually only sense him like this when he's hurt."

They took off running down the road, slowing as they approached the car. Logan popped his claws and looked in a side window, "Got him," he said after letting out a heavy sigh, "Somebody up front too." He opened the door and felt for Remy's pulse; relieved when he felt it was strong.

"His hands…" Jean said.

Logan carefully pulled him from the car and laid him on the ground with his head resting on his legs. "Look like burns, probably blew his restraints." He couldn't help but to bend and kiss the soft hair as Jean checked the other man.

"Oh My God, Logan, this is the man from Pennsylvania! He thinks Remy is Stephen!"

Logan growled and would have jumped to his feet and gutted the pervert if Remy wasn't resting against him. "He's mine, the bastard is mine."

It was a low growl from deep in his throat and Jean was actually afraid for a second. "No Logan, we aren't going to just kill him. What are we going to do with him though?" She was silent a moment, probably speaking with Scott. "We leave him." she stated and started to move.

"No! The bastard had Remy again! Where's he gonna turn up next, Salem Center?" Remy moaned quietly and Logan tapped his cheek gently, "Kiddo? Can ya hear me Rem?"

Remy's head dropped a bit and a rivulet of blood ran from his nose.

"Shit, bring the scum; we gotta get Remy to Hank." He wiped the blood and hit his Comm. Badge, "Cyke, the scum is comin with us 'til we figure out what to do with him." He ignored the angry reply and gently lifted the taller Cajun into his arms and pulled him to his chest. "Bring him or I kill him," he said as he stared at Jean and she knew from his tone he meant every word.

"Can we compromise, leave him with the police?"

Logan shook his head, "No way Jeannie, he's not getting another chance."

She looked at him holding his lover then she looked at the man in the front seat, felt his disturbed mind, "All right."

She removed the tape from his hands and feet and was about to lift him in a telekinetic bubble when he kicked out, knocking her back and stealing her breath.

He stumbled backwards into the road laughing the whole time.

Logan growled menacingly, his eyes never leaving the hated enemy. He debated laying Remy down and finishing the bastard when Remy moaned softly again. He'd have to wait and finish him after Hank took care of Remy.

"I'll *catch* you later, Stephen!"

Jean saw the truck barreling down the road behind him and she started to cry out, to warn him; then she looked at Logan holding Remy. She remembered the pain and fear this man caused him as his mind shattered, caught between what was real and something else.

Jean Grey-Summers turned away and let the truck take care of the problem for them.

Logan never looked away as the driver of the truck hit his horn already knowing it was too late to stop what was about to happen. Logan turned to the Falcon when it was done and called back, "Let's get out o' here before the cops show, Jeannie." He wasn't sorry that the bastard was dead.

*****

Logan paced the hall outside the med lab for what felt like the millionth time before Hank finally opened the door. "Is he okay, Blue? The bastard didn't…"

Hank shook his head, "No. Did he regain consciousness at all on the way back?"

Logan's heart pounded louder, "No why?"

Hank led him into the lab, "I can't wake him. I've been trying since he arrived. I've re-run the CAT scan and every other test I know; he's perfectly fine physically. He should be awake."

They arrived at Remy's bed and Logan brushed through his hair, "I can't let you out o' my sight for a second can I boy?" He looked back up at Hank, "Sleeping's good, right? I mean, the kid's been through hell again tonight. He's sick and tired, so sleeping is good." He was trying to ignore the sick feeling growing in his own gut.

Hank looked down at his patient, "I'll let it slide for the night but if he isn't awake by morning I'm going to have Jean scan him."

Logan pulled up a chair and prepared for another long wait beside his lover's bed, "Fair enough."

Hank dimmed the lights in the room, "Call me if he wakes, I just want to know, okay?"

Logan combed through Remy's hair with his fingers, "Sure, get some sleep Blue. See ya in the morning."

*****

In the wee hours of the morning Logan's eyes flew open. He sensed more than heard Remy start to wake, "Remy? Come on kid, open your eyes so I know yer okay."

A low moan answered as the long lashes fluttered and his eyes opened a crack.

"Seems like we were just here doing this yesterday," Logan said quietly. He didn't like remembering waiting for his lover to recover from the coma.

Remy licked his dry lips, "Happened?"

Logan started rubbing gentle circles at his lover's temples. "You had another migraine, missed your plane. Jeannie and I went to get you." He left out the attacker and his death for now; he'd tell Remy later when he felt better.

"They're gettin' worse," Remy whispered. He lifted his hand and rubbed above his eyes.

"I know kiddo, but don't you worry Hank's gonna figure it out." Logan bent and kissed his soft hair. "I gotta let him know yer awake." He slowly moved his fingers away hating to relinquish the touch and reached for the phone on the wall. "Hank…I don't know, early…yeah just now…okay." He turned back to Remy, "Hey, don't go back to sleep on me."

He rubbed Remy's temples again and the smoldering eyes cracked a bit, "Not sleepin," then they closed again.

Hank entered the room a moment later, fur going every which way. "Welcome back young man. If you would just humor me for a few minutes I will release you to Logan's tender care and you can leave at your leisure."

Remy started to nod but froze as a shooting pain sliced down from the top of his head to the base of his spine. "Damn..." He tensed and waited for the pain to pass.

"Remy, what's going on? What are you feeling?"

A tear left Remy's tightly closed eyes, "Fire…all the way down my spine." He opened his eyes a crack "Can you make this stop, Henri?"

Hank patted his shoulder "I will do my best Remy." He lifted a needle for Remy to see, "This is a pain killer, it's very strong and you should feel relief very soon."

Remy tensed again as the needle pierced his skin.

"All done Darlin'" Logan soothed as he continued to rub Remy's temples.

Remy visibly relaxed, "Wow Henri, this some good stuff." He took a deep breath and felt the pain drain from his body. "Thank you," he whispered as he fell asleep.

*****

Remy woke again at ten the next morning to find Logan gone and Storm in his seat, "Good morning brother, how do you feel?"

Remy turned his head to look at her and was relieved that he no longer felt the burning pain. "I'm fine Stormy. Can I get out o' here now?"

Storm placed a hand against his chest to keep him from rising, "Not so fast." She rose and called out, "He is awake, gentlemen," then turned back to Remy with a warm smile, "I will talk to you later, Remy; feel better."

He took her hand and kissed it "Thanks Stormy." Moments later Hank and Logan came in the room. He moved to sit up and noticed the bandages around his wrists. "Okay, I know I was out o' it but what's this?"

Logan sat on the bed beside him, "You don't remember?"

Remy looked confused "No, what'd I do?" He felt weak, washed out, like he'd had the flu and was just recovering.

"What is the last thing you remember?" Hank asked.

Remy thought a moment, "Leavin' the plane in Boston."

Hank sighed, "Let me get you something to eat then we can discuss this."

"What's goin on, what ain't I rememberin'?"

Logan lifted his hand and kissed it, "Eat something and we'll tell ya everything."

*****

By lunchtime Remy was begging to be released. Hank reluctantly released him but not before they had a talk. Remy leaned on Logan as they moved to Scott's office to talk.

"So the last thing you remember is getting off the plane in Boston?" Hank asked.

Remy was sitting in a large leather chair; Logan was sitting on the arm rubbing small circles between his shoulder blades. "You don't remember calling me?"

Remy thought a moment but shook his head slightly, "No, why'd I call you?"

Hank looked at Logan, "Is this the first time he's lost memories?"

Logan nodded, "Yeah, and the nose bleed."

Remy swallowed hard, "Henri what is this? Do I have a brain tumor or somethin'?"

Hank shook his head "No Remy, I've run every test I could think of; you are perfectly fine."

Jean asked to join them and sat quietly listening. She had a suspicion about what was going on but she wanted to talk to Hank first.

"Remy, you called me last night from the backseat of a car. There was a man…"

Remy sat forward in his chair suddenly, "Yes! I remember that now." He looked up at Logan, "Somethin' about him…he was creepy. He took me?"

Logan knelt down in front of him and placed his hands on Remy's knees, "Yeah kiddo; ya must've blown your restraints and got him though, when we got there you were free and he was taped up."

Remy looked at him, "I wish I could remember that," he said wryly. "Where is he now?"

Jean spoke up, "He attacked me and ran into the road; he ran right in front of a truck."

Remy laughed sourly, "Well I guess I don' have to worry 'bout him no more." The headache was beginning to return and he looked up at Hank "Are we done? I'm beat." He didn't want anymore lab time and it wasn't too bad so he didn't mention it.

Jean stood as did Hank, "We're through. Get some rest but I want to know immediately if any symptoms return. Spots in front of your eyes, blurred vision, voices sounding muffled."

Remy let Logan pull him to his feet, "Okay, I'll tell you."

Logan kept an arm around him all the way back up to their room, "I've got t' be in the Danger Room in ten. I'll come back up and get you for dinner when I'm through, okay?"

He smiled at Remy who had already climbed into bed and was nuzzling Logan's pillow. "I can' help it," he said as he closed his eyes, "It smells like you."

Logan kissed him sweetly and left.

Remy clutched the pillow hard; the headache was back and as bad as before. He reached for a tissue to blow his nose and saw blood.

When Logan came back to get him he was surprised and pleased to find he was already up. He knocked on the bathroom door, "Dinner's ready, Rem."

Remy was kneeling in front of the toilet fighting back nausea, "Okay Cher, you go on I'm just gonna splash some water on my face." He swallowed hard and tried not to be sick, he hated all the worry he was causing Logan. "I'll see ya there."

Logan turned for the door not suspecting a thing, "Hurry up, Jeannie made roast and it smells pretty good."

Logan hadn't gotten more than halfway down the hall when Remy lost his battle with his stomach. When he was through he stood weakly and stared into the mirror, "What the Hell is wrong wit' me?" He moaned as another wave of nausea washed over him. He was covered in cold sweat and leaning a hand against the wall to get to the stairs. No way could he hide this and he didn't want too... he was scared. He wouldn't even complain if Henri made him stay in the lab, in fact he *wanted* to stay there.

At the top of the stairs he stopped, they were blurred and swam before his eyes. He felt himself losing consciousness and everything turned black.

End.

To be continued soon in Future Hope.


End file.
